IBDVW 02

Chapter 2

They say that even a dog that hangs around a village school for three years can recite poetry.
I suppose the same applied to me.

After spending five straight years obsessively reading romance fantasy novels, I’d finally succeeded in possessing someone.

Did I really pull off transmigration?

I couldn’t close my mouth as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

Thick, waist-length silver hair. Crimson eyes reminiscent of blazing rubies. Clear, translucent skin, and a cat-like face that would look beautiful when smiling.

If this counts as a human face, then what on earth was my face in my previous life?

It was far too perfect.

But if there was one problem with this perfection, it was that instead of possessing the usual “young noble lady,” I seemed to have possessed a “noble lady who only needed to hold her wedding ceremony to be married.”

After all, I looked exactly like a newlywed—wearing a wedding dress and a veil.

Just who did I possess?

I racked my small brain as fast as I could.

Was it because yesterday happened to be the day my cheating ex-boyfriend married my best friend—and I not only caused a scene but drank myself senseless until dawn?

I couldn’t remember which novel this was, or what role I’d possessed.

Click.

That was when the door opened and a stranger walked in.

“My goodness. Elysia!”

“…Mother?”

She was clearly a stranger, yet instinctively I knew that was what I was supposed to call her.

“I just met the Duke. He’ll soon be your husband.”

As she approached and clasped both my hands while speaking, I managed to glean my first piece of information.

My husband is a duke?

That was the first clue.

There aren’t many novels I’ve read where the female lead is already married.

Maybe three, at most?

“Elysia, even after you become a member of the Winston family, never forget us. Do you understand? Come visit often.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Another piece of information acquired.

If I’m becoming part of the Winston family, then my surname will change to Winston.

And since she kept calling me Elysia, that must be my name. But the problem was that none of the female leads I’d read were named Elysia.

Which meant I hadn’t possessed the protagonist.

At best, I was either a villainess or the female lead’s friend.

“I’ll go ahead now. I’ll see you later at the ceremony, Elysia.”

“I’ll see you later, Mother.”

As I smiled and replied, a sense of unease crept over me.

We’re definitely family… so why does this feel so uncomfortable?

Don’t tell me this is one of those “regretful family” stories?

It’s possible. She acted affectionate, yet her gaze subtly drew a line.

Recalling the woman who’d just left, I pieced my thoughts together.

The novel I’d possessed was clearly a mix of three keywords: family regret, revenge, and marriage first, love later, with a villainess-centered storyline.

If I hadn’t possessed the heroine, then logically speaking…

I’d likely possessed the villainess.

If I’m the villainess, I can change my behavior and alter the ending—but if the route involves succeeding in business and earning love, I’m doomed.

I’d seen plenty of transmigration stories where changing one’s fate involved starting a business, striking it rich, and gaining attention.

The problem was—that wasn’t my story.

I was terrible at business. If anything, I was better at making them fail.

Knock, knock.

Just as I was thinking deeply, someone knocked.

“Bride, it’s time to go.”

I was doomed.

I hadn’t even figured out who I possessed, and I was about to get married!

Maybe seeing my husband’s face will jog my memory.

Hoping that attending the ceremony might trigger something, I cautiously followed the guide.

The fragrant scent of the bouquet I received lifted my spirits.

This might actually go well.

“Please wait here until the ceremony begins.”

I thought I’d been left alone in front of the large doors—but there was one other person beside me.

Judging by the situation, he had to be this body’s father.

Given the relationship with the so-called mother earlier, I doubt we’re close either.

I decided to keep my mouth shut until the ceremony.

After an awkward stretch of silence, the wedding began, and I entered while holding the hand of a father I barely knew.

Once I’m married, I’ll cut ties with my original family.

No matter how much they prattled on about happiness or love up ahead, my resolve didn’t waver.

“Elysia Turan, do you accept Adrian Winston as your husband?”

Finally, the vows.

At least I can check what he looks like.

I slightly turned my body and looked at him through the veil.

So people can look like this, huh.

I’d braced myself for the possibility of a freshly caught squid—but not even close.

He had the kind of face you could stare at every day without ever getting bored.

“Why are the ratings like this? Is the ending weird?”

At that moment, a memory surfaced.

This was definitely from the last novel I’d read.

“Ah! I shouldn’t have paid for this! My money!”

A dizzying memory flashed by.

Damn it.

Regardless of how his face alone justified the plot, I finally realized which novel—and who—I had possessed.

I wasn’t the heroine.
Not a supporting character.
Not even the villainess.

I was the terminally ill wife of the mastermind.

“Elysia Turan?”

The man standing before me—whose face alone carried the plot—was now my husband.

And the mastermind.

* * *

I’d started my romance fantasy journey with what others called a masterpiece, and went on to read countless stories.

The last novel I read was the R-rated angst novel <The End of Devoured Desire>.

Why that one?

Because I’d grown sick of cheerful stories.

“I’m leaving a review that will be both blood and flesh to you all. Opinions are sharply divided. Please read the spoilers before deciding.”

Of course, I hated spoilers—so I ignored it.

That was the problem.

I usually read one volume first and then decide whether to buy the rest…

Unfortunately, I had a habit of buying complete sets of standalone novels all at once.

If the preview was fun, I’d buy everything without hesitation.

Why did my husband have to be the mastermind?

The story followed a heroine who had lost her memories, rediscovering who her true love was as she regained them.

The emotional buildup was incredible.

That’s why I bought all four volumes in one go.

The plot itself was cliché.

Three men pursued her. One was her true love, and by the end, she realized who it was and continued that love.

Perfect—up to that point.

The problem came after.

Even if opinions are divided, you can’t expect people to like an ending where everyone dies.

After regaining her memories and finding love, the heroine should have been happy.

Instead, the ending was tragic.

The mastermind slaughtered the heroine, the male lead, and all major characters—then killed his own family and servants before finally taking his own life.

What kind of garbage ending is this?

But more importantly—

I was the mastermind’s terminally ill wife.

I died before he killed the main cast.

Elysia Winston—Adrian Winston’s wife—was an illegitimate child.

Sold off into marriage, she became the lady of the Winston household, lived quietly as if invisible… and then made a choice.

After revealing her terminal illness, she drank poison in front of her husband, traumatizing him.

“It seems even my wife hated me. Seeing even her leave me…”

That line appeared in a short epilogue.

But now, neither the epilogue nor the terrible ending mattered.

What mattered was this:

I was terminally ill.

This calls for divorce.

I felt bad plotting divorce on my wedding night—but my life mattered more.

Considering he killed his family and servants later, even if I escaped the illness, I’d still be on the death list as “family.”

I don’t want to die meaninglessly.

I’d cure the illness, divorce him, and live out my later years peacefully.

I refused to die without trying.

“This is the butler, Harper, and I am the head maid, Anna Merriton. We will serve you with utmost devotion.”

As I tried to recall what I needed to do, I met the butler and head maid in turn.

We’d left the wedding hall and arrived at the Winston estate—I was officially Mrs. Winston now.

“I look forward to working with you.”

No matter how unhinged my husband might be, these people were innocent.

Treating them well might even lead to good connections.

“Please leave for now. I’d like to be alone.”

They nodded immediately and quietly left the room.

Good. Now let’s plan.

I lay on the bed and formed a plan in my head.

1. Cling to my mastermind husband and chatter nonstop.
   He despises meaningless talk more than anything.

2. Let him know I ruin everything I touch.
   No one likes someone who destroys things.

3. Play up my weak constitution and act sick often.
   One of the reasons Elysia became terminally ill was her frailty.

If I constantly showed my sickness to him, he’d only find me annoying.

Maybe even a burden.

Perfect! There’s only one thing left to do!

I half-sat up on the bed and waited for him to arrive.

We were officially married now—and would have to share a room.

Knock, knock.

There was only one person who would come at this hour.

If he weren’t a mastermind, I’d want to live with that face forever.

Adrian gently opened the door and entered.

“Wife.”

That voice, too—perfect.

He’s here to suggest separate rooms.

I didn’t even need to hear it.

Maybe tomorrow. But tonight? Absolutely not.

I trotted over to him like a bird spotting feed.

“I almost fell asleep without seeing your face.”

He’d come so late it was prime sleep time—I nearly ruined my plan.

“I have something to say to you.”

I knew it.

“I do too.”

“Then please speak first.”

Oh? Perfect.

I let the shawl slip from my shoulders, stepped closer in my nightwear, and took both his hands.

“Let’s just hold hands and sleep. That’s okay, right?”

For the record—
Adrian hated physical contact.